


Folks at Fólkvangr

by sleepoverwork



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, BAMF Brunnhilde | Valkyrie (Marvel), BAMF Women, Brunnhilde has a bar that everyone loves okay, Brunnhilde | Valkyrie-centric (Marvel), Developing Friendships, Gen, Good friends in the making
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 12:08:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17849183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepoverwork/pseuds/sleepoverwork
Summary: It was an average Tuesday at Fólkvangr, when things drastically got flipped on the head. Brunnhilde had decided to invest in a business. Specially, a liquor selling business that served all sorts of patrons, and, as long as you had the money for it, all sorts of different species’ drinks.AKA Brunnhilde made friends with four badass women and she didn't even realize it. But she will.





	Folks at Fólkvangr

**Author's Note:**

  * For [error_cascade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/error_cascade/gifts).



> This work is for the womenofmcu valentine exchange... and it's late...
> 
> Basically it's the start of something new, and female friendships that the mcu women deserve.
> 
> Thank you to the absolute angel [MayanAngel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMaya) for beta-ing this fic. All mistakes are mine, she made me look good.

It was an average Tuesday at Fólkvangr, when things drastically got flipped on the head. Brunnhilde had decided to invest in a business. Specially, a liquor selling business that served all sorts of patrons, and, as long as you had the money for it, all sorts of different species’ drinks.

Of course most non-Asgardians complained about pronunciation issues, opting to refer to the place as Folks, and honestly, Brunnhilde didn’t care for their bitching so as long as they gave her money, she kept her own opinions silent. 

“Great and mighty Valkyrie, another round for us loyal customers of Folks,” a random, and unfortunately human man, bellowed to the front.

“If you want another round, stop insulting my establishment with your idiotic nickname,” she sassed back, grabbing an empty pitcher to start filling it up.

Well, mostly silent.

“I could kill him for you,” Nebula said in lieu of a greeting as she slid onto a bar stool.  
Instead of answering the blue assassin, Brunnhilde slid her some Asgardian mead, and Nebula nodded her thanks and the acknowledgement that Brunnhilde was telling her not to waste her time.

“How come it gets the good stuff,” a misleadingly sober voice called out. Brunnhilde and Nebula ignored the man for completely different reasons. Brunnhilde, as owner of the establishment, was not going to instigate or encourage a bar fight. Although, she was perfectly willing to let the man drink himself to death, he was already looking at a nasty hangover in his future.

Nebula, on the other hand, was chugging her drink. She had heard the insult, but really she had better things to do at the moment. Like, chug her drink.

“Shut your cakehole you fuckwit,” Jessica Jones, an actual regular of Brunnhilde’s, stalked past the table on her way to from her corner to the bars counter, smacking the drunk man who spoke so hard on his head, he instantly passed out, falling to the floor while his friends all laughed and cheered. 

“Stereotypical male fashion, always excitable over violence,” Brunnhilde said to herself, shaking her head. Maybe make this a comment from Nebula? ‘Men, really. Only interested in a fight!’

Nebula smirked and snatched a drying glass and a Jack Daniels bottle to pour a shot, as Brunnhilde was distracted by the commotion.

“You’re the reason why I had to get reinforced tables,” Brunnhilde muttered, and when she noticed Nebula’s antics, grabbed back the bottle and shot her a glare.

The dark-haired women finally reached the front of the bar and sat next to the assassin, clicking her shot against the assassin’s mug.

“Oh yeah B, as if you’ve never knocked as asshole or four through a table when they deserved it,” Jessica bit back, downing her shot. “Another Jack shot.”

Brunnhilde rolled her eyes but obeyed.

“Last one Jones.”

“What,” came her reply after she had greedly grabbed the shot glass and started lifting it to her mouth, the words sinking in. 

“You don’t cut them off.” She gestured behind her to the whole bar made up of extremely drunk men.

“That’s because she doesn’t care if they die,” Nebula smiled, a little too wide, at Brunnhilde’s narrowing eyes.

The disrespect Brunnhilde put up with in her own home.

“You’re both cut off. Finish those drinks and get the fuck out,” She snapped back at them, but all she got was laughter as a response.

Unsurprisingly, neither of them left, and to make it worse, both kept reaching over the counter and grabbing whatever alcohol they could get whenever Brunnhilde had to leave them unattended. Finally, she compromised that they drink Midgardian beer as long as Brunnhilde covered their tab.They sneered when she ended up giving them both Stellas, but ended up drinking two more pitchers by the time it was time to close up shop. 

Brunnhilde let them continue to hang around and drink as she went about cleaning and closing the bar.

“You are being played like a fiddle,” a soft voice said from beside Brunnhilde as she cleaned up after another party’s mess of spills, cups, and appetizer plates.

She turned, almost-empty glass in her hand, to face the person and cursing herself for letting someone sneak up on her.

Nakia gracefully dodged the excess liquid that was flung out of the glass.

“Apologies,” the wakandian smiled, clearly not apologetic at all.

“It’s 2.” Brunnhilde double-checked the clock on the far wall, which did in face read fifteen past 2am.

“I was in the neighborhood.” Nakia shrugged and breezed to the counter to join the last two patrons, Nebula and Jessica, who were so caught up in some kind of elaborate discussion that involved space and men, and fighting, lots and lots of fighting ideas were being thrown around.

A scoff drew Brunnhilde's attention back to the entrance where Natasha Romanova was strolling in, an open window that was clearly locked before, behind her.

“She has one of those fancy aircrafts outside in the middle of the parking lot,” Natasha rolled her eyes and gavea Brunnhilde a wink as she continued to the front to join the others.

“I would assume Nakia left the door open,” Brunnhilde called after her, only earning a half-hearted handwave as acknowledgement.

Bewildered, she resumed clearing up her bar and grumbling about uninvited guests. 

After a few moments, Nakia came back to her, a drink in hand, and without a word, the shorter women took the dishes from Brunnhilde and switched them with the light amber-colored drink. 

If anyone asked, she would swear up and down her slow processing time and utter failure to react, not once, but twice to Nakia, was due to her sleep-deprived state.

“Jack Fire,” Nakia explained, without explaining much at all. “Go sit. Drink. We will clean.”

Brunnhilde then finally took notice that the other three were up and shuffling around the building, wiping, gathering, setting chairs on top of tables, and generally cleaning up the place.

“You guys-” Brunnhilde started and was cut off by three different voices, and one unimpressed glare.

“Just sit down moron.”

“Shut up.”

“Go sit.”

So she did. Sit. Drink Jack Fire, with a dash of Asgardian liquor, fully dumbfounded about how they found where she kept that particular stash.

And watched at the four mismatched beings efficiently made short work of tidying her bar.  
“I don’t quite understand,” she admitted to Natasha, when the lithe warrior made her way to the booth Brunnhilde was sitting, pouring her another drink and nudging her to make room.

Natasha didn’t answer, just gave the taller warrior a pat on the shoulders.

“We’re celebrating dumbass,” came the reply from where Jessica had grabbed as much bottles of alcohol as would fit in her arms, the insult soothed by a rare soft smile on the other’s face.

“What are we celebrating,” she frowned, scanning each women’s expression as they sat, each holding at least three bottles of alcohol. 

“Fólkvangr’s one year anniversary,” Natasha finally, when no one else spoke up. Then pulled an obscene amount of one hundred dollar bills out from her jacket pocket and plopped them down.

“Drinks are on me,” she smirked.

“That’s… nice of you,” Brunnhilde side-eyed the redhead, suspiciously.

“Eh.” Natasha shrugged. “Since I’m with the Avengers, I tend to not need as much money. Don’t get me wrong, I still have plenty more, but this? This is for tonight and us.

Brunnhilde nodded, warmed by the gesture.

Nebula, who was sitting across from Brunnhilde, her cloak hood on, as if she was leaving, and not smooshed into the corner of a booth by Jessica and Nakia, slid her bottles in front of Brunnhilde.

“Asgardian mead, from Thor,” she stated and gave nothing more when she got an eyebrow in return.

“I suppose I’ll have to thank Thor when he visits.”

“He doesn’t know,” Nebula preened and Jessica snorted up some of her drink. Everyone else either rolled their eyes, snickered, or both.

Nakia had to stand to lift to retrieve her present, but when she placed it on the table with the others’ gifts, Brunnhilde’s eyes popped.

“It’s obviously not the same, but Thor gave me some depictions on what your Valkyrie sword looked like, and I got Shuri to work with Tony on recreating it.”

“It’s beautiful,” Brunnhilde whispered, pulling the sword from the scabbard to study it. “Thank you Nakia.”

Natasha scooted a little farther to the edge of their side of the booth to avoid any accidental stabbing.

“I know you lost yours in the fight against Hela,” Nakia mentioned softly.

“It’s just as light, maybe lighter.”

“Vibranium,” Nakia answered and then rolled her eyes and shot Nebula a look. “Unlike someone, I asked and Thor, Shuri, and Tony, were all more than happy to pitch in for your present.”

Nebula threw back a look a lot more willing to fight, and Jessica elbowed her to knock it off while tossing up a middle finger to Nakia, who just rolled her eyes again am covered her face to mouth ‘children’ to Natasha.

Jessica coughed after a moment to get everyone’s attention before downing yet another shot.

“I don’t have anything for you but my sparkling personality, but thanks for the alcohol and cheers to this place.”

Natasha laughed, while Nakia groaned and covered her face. Nebula just went right back to filling up Jessica’s glass, and Brunnhilde smiled wide for the first time in a while.

As they all began to drink some more, she realized she could get use to this particular band of misfits, and who knows what will happen in the future. Maybe this time next week she would somehow befriend Pepper Potts, or the elusive wakandian general Nakia would equally criticize and praise more maybe this time an X-women would finally get sick of their X-men and come to play.

**Author's Note:**

> Fólkvangr is specifically the afterlife in Norse mythology that Fregga, the All-mother, was in charge of, as half those who die go to and is greatly overshadowed by the Odin's counterpart Valhalla. As Brunnhilde is loosely taken from MCU!Valkyrie, I figured she would be pretty done with men and their kingly dumbshit, so fuck MCU!Odin and MCU!Valhalla.
> 
> Find me wasting my life away on [tumblr](https://letsallsleepoverwork.tumblr.com) or discord as letsallsleepoverwork!


End file.
